


I Want To Be

by geneticus



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Poetry, Season/Series 06 Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6229015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geneticus/pseuds/geneticus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My love is dead, and I want to flee<br/>this place where love has forgotten me.<br/>His voice is faint, but he calls to me;<br/>his lips are cold when he kisses me,<br/>for my love is dead, and I want to be.<br/>I want to be with my love."</p><p>A fan poem inspired by and based on "<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5713354">And I For Him"</a> by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dementian/pseuds/Dementian">Dementian</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want To Be

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [And I For Him](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5713354) by [Dementian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dementian/pseuds/Dementian). 



> As said in the summary, this poem is heavily based on the story and events in "And I For Him", specifically the first 3-4 chapters of it, so I recommend reading that first if you want to understand the feelings and thoughts of this particular version of Thomas. 
> 
> That story gets pretty intense and it ended up making me feel enough things I had to let it out somehow, and it just happened to come out in a poem. This piece is pretty long, and it still isn't quite 100% finished, but I wanted to put it up anyways because otherwise it'll just sit in my drafts folder for weeks as I tweak little parts of it over and over, wondering if it'll ever feel done.
> 
> So here it is, I hope you get something out of it!

My love is dead, and I want to flee  
this place where love has forgotten me.  
His voice is faint, but he calls to me;  
his lips are cold when he kisses me,  
for my love is dead, and I want to be.  
I want to be with my love.

My love is dead, and this world has none  
to spare for me. For there's not a one  
who truly cares what becomes of me,  
who'd weep for long were I not to be.  
But my love is dead, and he cares for me,  
and he calls to me. Oh, my love.

My love is dead. I may also be,  
for these halls are cold, and I'm so empty  
of goodness or hope, so what's here for me?  
To convince me to stay when I want to flee?  
To convince me to not, when I could be free  
to be with my love, who I know loves me?  
He's the only one who does.

*

My love is dead. Oh please, leave me be.  
I don't want to be touched, or watched, or to be  
made a fool, made a show. I want you all to go.  
I want you to leave for I'll never believe  
that you do want me here, or hold me at all dear.  
It's false. It's all pity. I hate it, I want to be  
gone, and alone. To finally come home  
to the only one I want close to me.  
So he's dead? I am too, or I want to be.

How I want to be, oh my love.

*

My love is dead, and the marbles roll.  
My thoughts come undone, the time takes its toll.  
You all force me stay when I want to go,  
when I want to go and rest.

*

I don't want to hear. I don't want you to see,  
I can't go while your eyes are all watching me.  
You shouldn't see the mess that's become of me  
from a life with no love at all.

You don't see my pain. You don't look at me.  
You see a tool, or a joke, or a memory,  
while I'm dying. I'm crying, at the end of my rope,  
but it's too ugly to look at. it's too much to hope  
that it'll change for the better. And I can't cope  
for much longer. Oh I can't, my love.

I know I'm a mess. I know I'm a mistake,  
and that my past is something I can never shake.  
So that's why I'll go. I can make a clean break  
and then I'll be with my love, and be loved.

*

My love is dead, yet I live through the day  
(though I spend every hour longing to be away)  
and nobody seems to know the right things to say  
to convince me to stay, oh my love.

And some things help, but there's so much that hurts.  
I know this suffering is all my just desserts,  
but I'm so tired of feeling I'm worth less than dirt.  
I'm so tired, so tired, my love.

*

But maybe the light will come back into me,  
and my future will shine, and i'll become happy.  
Though that's not very likely, is it?

For my love will never return to me,  
and I can't change what I am, that's a certainty.  
So I don't think that dream's ever meant to be  
any more than a lovely thought.

So leave me to rot. Let me leave today  
down that dark and forbidden way  
where I can go to my love and stay,  
and be loved, and be free to love.

But you still insist like I can be convinced  
that life has things in it I won't want to miss.  
But I think we both know I'll never live in bliss,  
(This world just won't let me, my love.)

But perhaps, you say, there's happiness to be made  
in small bites, in small steps. Within every small change  
for the better. And maybe you can persuade  
me that there's something for me here.

But for now, my life looks like a hall of locked doors  
and the only love I know waits upon a far shore  
so you've got to work hard, you've all got to do more  
if you want me to keep living here

*

For my love is dead, and I want to be  
in a place where I'm beloved and happy.  
But if that isn't here, and there's nothing else for me,  
then I'm going to leave.

So give me reasons to live, and to eat, and to stay,  
or I'll finally go and remain that way.  
Then my love, my darling, will no longer be  
the only one who's dead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to anyone who read this, especially considering how it turned out so long. And again, my thanks also go to Dementian for inspiring it. Trying to translate their Thomas' feelings like this lead me to do some things I wouldn't have when just writing poetry for myself, and it's been a fun challenge to work on.


End file.
